Lost in a Reverie 18+ Only (Book 1 of Lastor Series) ['23/'24 EDIT]

Chapter 43

I laid under a bask of sunlight, sipping on my sixth glass of margarita. Andrea was having a ball doing the typical tourist activities for the past hour. Probably every man at the beach was gawking at her hourglass figure fitted in a barely even there gold two-piece bikini that stuck to her like second skin. While I was, as she put it, sulking and getting drunk at some corner.

The beach was beyond stunning. The tropical heat was a fine change. The sights were breathtaking. But I've seen everything before. The thrill of being in such a beautiful place only lasted for about fifteen minutes and then there was nothing else worth being awed for.

"Jelly Bean!" I heard Andrea squeal.

I cringed at that abominable nickname.

She jogged towards me, her ample breasts bouncing at each step while she cupped them with both hands. I slipped my aviators over my head and sat up, only to be tackled by her when she caught me off guard with an open mouthed kiss.

I muttered a curse but it fell on deaf ears as she shoved her tongue in my mouth while I tried not to spill my drink. When she pulled away, seeing the wicked grin on her lips and the wide eyed men around us, I knew what she had gotten bored playing by herself.

I rolled my eyes, sighing when she sat by my feet with her back to me. I took the straps to her bikini top and tied them together. It was the third time already.

"If you keep flashing people, you'll probably get arrested," I muttered.

She snorted. "As if. They're enjoying the show too much."

Of course they did. I was very aware that an audience was gathered around us, mostly of men, vying to get her attention. She only enticed them more by ignoring each one of them.

"Still, this isn't a nudist beach. And please stop dragging me into your games. I don't want to have my face plastered on the tabloids with your tongue down my throat," I muttered in annoyance, sipping on my drink.

"You're such a party pooper."

She took my glass and downed the drink in one breath. I rolled my eyes and gestured at a nearby waiter to get me another.

"Seriously, babe. We're in one of your favorite places in the world and you're fucking brooding! Can you please cut the emo shit for a little bit? You won't get laid if you keep it up."

I scoffed. "I don't give a shit."

"You never do." She sighed. "You know, something tells me that you're hiding something."

I shrugged, taking the glass the waiter handed me. "I'm always hiding something."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh right, the great Angel Lastor and her even greater mystery," she mocked. "We both know that trick doesn't work on me, babe."

I smirked, sipping lightly on my drink. "What trick?"

She let out an irritated groan. "I swear, I'm getting tired of your shit."

I pursed my lips, looking down at my drink as I traced the rim of the glass with a finger.

"Do you want to leave?"

"What? Don't tell me you want to jet off to somewhere again! We just got here!" she whined.

I shook my head, looking up at her in confusion. "You said you were tired. I just thought..." I trailed off, shaking my head again. "Never mind."

She snorted. "You're so fucking weird. You're lucky I love you," she giggled before smacking her lips against my cheek.

"Why?"